The Love You Don't Feel
by Inusagi
Summary: Ianto Jones just wants one more night, one moment of grace before he has to give Jack up. Oneshot. Complete.


Disclaimer: I don't own them. I really, really want to get the action figures, though. Then I can say I do, even if it's kind of pathetic madness. I also don't own Indigo 3, which is the setting of an 8th Doctor audio drama.

A/N: This is my first attempt at lemons. Pleeeeeeeease give me feedback on that, if nothing else. I will love you forever.

Ianto watched his lover flirt with their waitress, his smile at once indulgent and apologetic. He told himself it was just part of Jack's personality, that the older man didn't really mean anything by it. Of course, he'd been telling himself that for months and it hadn't improved.

He struggled not to be jealous. He struggled not to be _hurt_. Most of all, he struggled to keep his feelings hidden.

So he said nothing as Jack flashed his charming smile and leaned in to whisper in the blonde's ear when she dropped off the check. She blushed prettily and flashed what Ianto's mam would have called "bedroom eyes," but they were soon on their way, walking hand-in-hand through the streets of Cardiff.

Ianto Jones had never been so happy or so miserable. He was in love, but it offered him no comfort. He knew Jack would never love him back. Not in the same way, at any rate. He'd always known he was just a…blip in time. Just a warm body to distract from some of the endlessness of Jack's life. He had never had delusions that the infamous Captain Jack Harkness was faithful to him. Jack was…extraordinary. Special. Handsome, enigmatic. He was like the leading man in every chick flick Lisa had ever dragged him to. Ianto…well, he was just a tea boy, wasn't he? He spent his days making coffee and doing paperwork. He was barely enough to draw the eye of someone like the Captain. Certainly not something that could keep it for long.

He rolled his eyes at himself, sounding to himself for all the world like a fourteen year old girl with a crush.

He briefly tried to tune into the story Jack was telling now—something about a religious retreat on Indigo 3, where he'd nearly been executed for blasphemy and had been forced to wander the Blue Desert for weeks. He allowed himself to continue his musings.

Ianto tried to imagine the future, one where he'd grow old and grey. He knew, of course, that in his line of work it was unlikely, but he imagined just the same. There wasn't a single scenario where he could see Jack, as he was, still holding his hand when he had wrinkles around his eyes or his hair started falling out. Jack would be young and handsome for eternity. Another young, beautiful person would catch his eye and Ianto would be shattered. He didn't doubt for a second that watching his lover with another would destroy him. It wasn't even the sex that bothered him, it was the little touches, the intimate moments that he'd be unable to bear. Something like this moment. He tried to picture someone else in his place at that very moment. A pretty redhead with her fingers intertwined with Jack's. A handsome blonde returning Jack's boyish smile. It made him nauseous.

He knew it was a flaw within himself. In the beginning, he'd promised himself this would remain a casual thing, just a shag here and there between two lonely men. But Ianto Jones was not cut out for casual. He loved in exactly the same way he did everything—with every ounce of his being behind it. He loved Jack Harkness with all the passion and meaning his heart could muster.

He reckoned that he'd have to put a stop to it all before his heart was well and truly broken. He couldn't make someone love him. Ianto could not force Jack to love him any more than he could force himself to stop loving Jack. It was an impasse that would lead, inevitably, to ruin if it went on like this.

He'd have to break it off with Jack.

Tomorrow. He couldn't bear to do this without one more night. Just this one moment of exquisite grace before condemning himself to a lifetime of lonely nights.

Jack's impatient voice cut into his reverie. "And then fifteen pink elephants jumped off my head."

"What?"

"Woolgathering?" Jack asked, nudging Ianto with his shoulder playfully.

"Perhaps, sir."

He must have failed at keeping his voice within the playful, neutral range because the Captain pulled him up short. "Is something wrong?" Ianto started to shake his head, but Jack laid a calloused hand on his jaw. "Talk to me."

Ianto gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "Just anxious to get home, is all. It was a long day."

"Lucky we're here, then."

And they were. Without even noticing it, they'd arrived to Ianto's front door.

Once inside, they'd gone their separate ways to ready for bed. It was oddly domestic, this little routine of theirs. Jack would brush his teeth first while Ianto donned his pyjamas. Then they switched. When they were done, they'd silently rid the bed of the extra pillows Jack was always teasing him for, pull down the duvet and clamber into one another's arms.

Now that his mind was made up, Ianto savored the moment and committed every detail to memory. The feeling of Jack's strong arms around his waist. The heat that radiated from Jack's bare chest through his own shirt. The ever-present pheromones mixed with the minty puff of breath across his face.

Jack brought his lips down to capture Ianto's. The kiss was long, languid and leisurely—the kind that always curled the Welshman's toes. He allowed himself to deepen the kiss, memorizing the feel of Jack's mouth. He gently explored with his tongue, tracing perfect teeth and soft lips before curling it around his partner's.

Ianto was rewarded with a throaty moan before being pushed gently to his back. Jack slipped a hand under his soft t-shirt, rubbing circles in the short, wiry hair. Ianto fisted one hand in the other man's hair while the other memorized the taut musculature of Jack's back.

They lay there for ages, all languid kisses and soft touches, until the older man's impatience rose. His shirt was pushed up over his shoulders and his pyjama bottoms joined Jack's in the tangled duvet. Wet kisses were trailed from Ianto's jaw to his navel. He arched into his lover, wanting nothing more than to feel those warm lips wrapped around him, but they worked their way back up.

Jack rose up above him and simply...stared. Two pairs of stormy blue eyes met and held. Jack's were intense, as if willing Ianto to understand every secret he held in his immortal soul. It was more intimacy than the younger man could bear and he selfishly wanted to hide the love he knew was in his own gaze, so he forced his eyelids to shut. His lover buried his face in the crook of Ianto's neck.

Ianto's fingers were captured and entwined with the Captain's, then both hands were wrapped around their erections. Jack tried at first to take control, to set the pace and pressure of their hands, but it soon descended into frenzy. The feeling of Jack's thick cock against his own was one that always drove Ianto to the edge. No matter how slow he'd wanted to take things, how much he wanted to savour each movement, his body craved the friction. He couldn't stop his frantic thrusts or the rhythmic tightening of his grip within Jack's. He couldn't stop the breathless moans that escaped him or the rambling litany of _oh God, more, Jack! Please, Jack!_

Jack bit down on his shoulder as he came, fingers flexing on their cocks almost to the point of pain. Ianto followed soon after with a hoarse shout. Their come mixed stickily between their bellies when Jack collapsed against him.

Tomorrow's heartbreak pushed out of his mind for the moment, Ianto just wrapped his arms around his love. The room was filled with their ragged breathing. It was all that mattered in that moment.

"Ianto," whispered Jack, "I love you."

The younger man stiffened, tried to pull away slightly. "Don't. You don't have to—"

Jack raised himself up onto his elbows. He smiled wanly and dipped his head for a soft kiss. "I do. I love you so much, Ianto Jones. I'll love you forever."


End file.
